Thursday, September 8, 2016

Central Grocery

Central Grocery

If I were sight impaired and someone walked me through those
doors I would know the perfumed vapors of an old timey Italian market. They’re
the smells of garlic, olives, cured meats, hard cheeses and old appetites
satisfied. It is an olfactory equivalent of being wrapped in your grandmother’s
wool shawl on a cool autumn night; yummy, secure, safe. Linzalone’s in old Chelsea,
Molinari’s in North Beach, Central Grocery in New Orleans.

I
recently sat down with Tommy Tusa, third generation owner/operator of Central
Grocery at his shop at 923 Decatur Street in the French Quarter. As we all know,
Salvatore Lupo (Tommy’s grandfather) is said to have been the originator of a
more than extraordinary sandwich, a sandwich that is as indicative of New
Orleans as the Mississippi River: The Muffuletta. Tommy is tall and trim and,
if such a word can be used, dapper in appearance. His age is nebulous; he
appears to be ten years either side of fifty years. He and his cousin Frank
Tusa run the day to day operations. Like all true Sicilians, Tommy talks as
much with his words as with his facial and physical expressions. We sit at the
far end of the eating counter, he, of course sits where he can see his
employees and the action.

PL:
First of all, can we tell everyone, once and for all, what is the proper
pronunciation of the sandwich?

TT:
Muffuletta, pronounced “moo-full-lette-tah!”
People call it a lot of other ways; we don’t really care, as long as they want
one.

PL:
And the name means?

TT:
From what we can make out from the stories that my mother tells, it probably
came from a baker named Muffuletta and was called Muffuletta bread long before
we started making it into a sandwich.
That’s as much as we can make out, we don’t know if it’s true but it
stands to reason.

PL:
How did the store get started?

TT:
My grandfather, like a lot of Italian immigrants, came here and worked in the
grocery business. In 1906 he opened his own grocery about a block away and in
1919 bought this property and opened this (gestures). The Market workers used
to come in and buy the ingredients for the sandwich from us, then they’d go
outside and buy some bread from a pushcart, sit on barrels and such places, eat
the bread (tearing motion) and ingredients. Then my grandfather got the idea of
making the sandwich. There were at least six Italian bakeries in the Quarter at
the time; in fact there were shops like
this all throughout the neighborhood.

PL:
This used to be a large ethnic neighborhood. Do you ever see that coming back?

TT:
I remember like it was yesterday, the ice house, the fish markets; no, I don’t
see it ever being the same. My father was raised in the French Quarter. It was
a real neighborhood up until about 1950 and then it started to change. Now what
we have here (indicates the street) are these street people; they sit outside
panhandling, they camp out at night and you have to clean up after them in the
morning, their garbage, food scraps, beer cans. You have to chase them away
during the day “you can’t sit here, you
can’t sit here” you’ve got to keep telling them. They’re ruining businesses
and no one is doing anything about them.

PL:
I was told that it’s their first amendment right.

TT:
(raised eyes) Yeah, the ACLU…. What about
our rights?

PL: Onward.
Your mother wrote a cookbook? (1980 Marie’s Melting Pot)

TT:
Yes, my mother and my two grandmothers; it took three or four years. Writing
recipes, testing them and cooking, cooking. I remember the stories, my mother
tells all the old stories, I know those
stories. My mother lives in Covington, she’s 103 years old and frail so she
doesn’t do interviews… obviously.

PL:
Any thoughts on retiring? Any other family members coming in?

TT:
I’ve worked here since 1970 so that’s forty-five years; no, there’s me and my
cousin and there’s no other generation coming up behind us. Besides, what would
I do if I retired (shrugs)? Stay at home and be bored?

PL:
Were you looted during Katrina?

TT:
Yes, all the businesses were. We opened after three months, and one day after
that, Jim Belushi came in and saw that his picture was still on the wall and he
pointed and said “well, at least they didn’t get me!!” We get a lot of
celebrities in; I’ll show you the photos. Goodman (John) loves the Muffuletta;
he can’t eat it here because they (gestures at the customers) won’t leave him
alone.

PL:
How many sandwiches have you made?

TT:
on a busy day we’ll make about five hundred

PL:
So you’ve made a million Muffulettas

TT:
More than one million. A few million,
at least. We’ve been in business over a hundred years (looks at me to indicate
that I should do the math). And we ship. Overnight, next day delivery.

PL:
What do you see as the future?

TT:
Kids these days, they don’t know how to work; you have to tell them over and
over how to do the same thing. You tell them to stay off their cell phone and
then (making an imaginary call at waist level) you see them in the corner. I’ll
tell you a story; when I was just starting working here, one day I made myself
a little sandwich and sat down; my uncle came up to me and said “what are you doing?” and I told him. He
said (slightly raising his voice) “Hey!
You don’t eat here, you eat at home, after you get off; now, get back to work!”
And that’s the way it was. Nowadays…

PL:
When I was a kid, I had a friend named Rocco, my mother used to call him a
“Bacciagalupe”. When I asked her what that meant, she would just point at him
and say “Him, he’s a Bacciagalupe!” Do you know what that means?

TT:
(laughing) Yes, I’ve heard that word; I think it means wiseguy or weirdo or
some such character.

PL:
Now, here’s the big one; what advice would you give young folks coming up? What
advice do you give your children?

TT:
I have two daughters and grandchildren. What would I say to them? (looks
heavenward and then into my eyes). I would say “Do whatever you do to the best of your ability. Do it well; and never
never give up. Never let anyone discourage you!”

And
then, like a true business owner, he shook my hand, thanked me and said: “I’ve
got to (indicating the sandwich counter) get back to work.”